


I Know Places

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Series: Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Grant Ward Deserved Better, Redeemed Ward, Skyeward - Freeform, Skye|Quake/Ward|Hellfire, Ward is Hellfire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They take their shots, but we're bulletproof." Faced with a new enemy and the betrayal of an old friend... all they really have is each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Places

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second fic in our 'Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff' series - which we're using as therapy to try to deal with the horror that was the season finale. 
> 
> We hope you like it!
> 
> Disclaimer: We own nothing. The song belongs to the glorious Ms. Swift, and AOS belongs to... a bunch of idiots. If we did own it, Bell et al would now be relegated to the morning coffee and bagel run. Although given his penchant for cheap shock value, he'd probably bring us tea. Yes, we're still mad about 2B. No, we don't see ourselves getting over it any time soon.

“I Know Places”

‘They take their shots but we’re bulletproof  
And you know for me, it’s always you...’

x-x-x

 

By design, Sunday mornings were intended to be long and lazy, spent nestled in rumpled covers with bare legs intertwined and eyes closed against the sunlight infiltrating the chinks in the curtains. Therefore, when Skye’s phone trilled from the night stand, forcing her to disentangle herself from Ward’s body, she let out the most dejected moan she could muster. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Ward murmured through his smile, pausing to drop a kiss onto the crown of Skye’s head whilst she squirmed in his arms.

The noise Skye released in response was almost a keen, conveying her annoyance and reluctance as she attempted to fight through the last vestiges of sleep that clung to her. Rubbing one hand over her eyes, she simultaneously rolled onto her back and threw her hand out towards the table, fingers groping for her phone. The cell vibrated against the tabletop, playing some old TV theme tune that Skye had only programmed in for Ward’s amusement. She regretted it bitterly at that moment, wishing she had instead opted for a less obnoxious ring tone, perhaps something she was more likely to be able to continue sleeping through.

“What?” Skye growled as she raised the cell to her ear, forgoing any attempt at pleasantries. Ward only winced as he listened, hoping against hope that it wasn’t someone like Maria Hill on the other end of the line, since he and Skye were hardly making friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ recently given their propensity for accidentally destroying public property on missions. It was hardly their fault; it simply seemed that the elements of fire and earth were somewhat less compatible than one might first think. 

In all other ways, however, they were proving absolutely compatible. It had been almost four months since the night in the bar, when they had finally given up denying the attraction that existed between them, and had taken the first tentative steps into a relationship.

Surprisingly, (perhaps to both of them), it had been pretty smooth sailing since then, and they worked as seamlessly together as a couple as they did as colleagues. Of course, none of the team knew about their fledgeling relationship - not even Coulson. For now, they had agreed that they would keep their romance secret from the team for fear of their reaction. 

Ward was slowly but surely edging his way back into the Director’s good books and, given the fact that the man regarded Skye as a surrogate daughter, getting him on side was key. 

But it was a Sunday morning and they had a cosy hotel room at their disposal, and Ward would have been lying if he’d said he had any plans for he and his girlfriend that involved clothing or even attempting to engage with the outside world. 

Skye rubbed her hand across her eyes and resettled her head on Grant’s chest, sighing contentedly as his arm wrapped around her.

She yawned and then greeted the caller with slightly more enthusiasm than she felt, “Oh.. Hey Jemma.”

She felt Ward still beneath her, and Skye glanced up to shoot him an amused frown, mostly intended to reassure him. She had made her choice and it was him; a hostile reaction from her friends would change nothing. 

Her fingertips danced lightly across his chest as she spoke to the scientist, sighing regretfully as slowly but surely her body began to wake up - the feel of her skin against Ward’s igniting a familiar burn in the pit of her stomach. 

“I’m good. Everything okay with you guys?” Skye asked, stifling a giggle as Grant bent his head and stole a kiss. 

Seeing the playful smile tugging at Skye’s lips, Ward smirked and gently rolled her over. He began to pepper her neck with open-mouthed kisses, his lips and tongue swirling against her skin as he worked his way down her body. Skye found the fingers of her free hand weaving themselves into his hair.

“Lunch?” Skye repeated Jemma’s invitation, closing her eyes and gasping in surprise as the stubble on Ward’s jaw grazed the curve of her breast. His mouth suddenly found her nipple and she couldn’t contain the cry that left her lips.

“God, yes!” she exclaimed, her cheeks burning red as the phone line suddenly fell silent. Ward, for his part, chuckled merrily to himself, his eyes dark with mischief and desire as he continued to torment Skye. 

‘Stop!’ she mouthed, although the grin that threatened to overcome her stern demeanour did nothing to quell the hungry gaze he rewarded her with. She swatted at his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she felt his body trembling with laughter against her own.

“Uh.. .YES! Let’s have lunch!” Skye recovered brightly, hoping to pass off her earlier exclamation as sheer enthusiasm.

Ward could only assume that Jemma hadn’t completely fallen for the rouse, however, as Skye replied, slightly flustered, “Me? No... I... I’m fine.” 

Ward bit his cheek to prevent the burst of laughter threatening to bubble up from his chest, and circled the tip of his index finger in lazy circles across Skye’s inner thigh. Her head dropped back hard against the pillow and he could tell that she was using every last shred of her concentration to focus on the phone call. 

“Uh huh, yeah, I’ll see you there in a few hours,” Skye let out, her voice a breathy rush as Ward pressed himself close to her hip, alerting her to the presence of his ‘morning glory’. He grinned with his lips against her earlobe and then nipped gently, amusement and arousal only growing as she shuddered in response. 

“I really have to go, Jem...” Skye ground out through gritted teeth, “but I... I’m looking forward to it.”

“So am I,” Ward hissed directly into her ear, his tongue darting around the shell immediately after and causing Skye to fist the sheets bunched underneath her. 

Deciding that there was no way the conversation could continue without Jemma suspecting something amiss, Skye took a deep breath. 

“Okay! Bye!” she delivered in a rush, before dropping the phone onto the night stand with a clatter.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” Skye demanded, attempting to sound stern but failing miserably as Ward slid his hand up her thigh. He lifted her leg over his hip so that he could grind insistently against her, eyes darkening as he peered down at her. 

The hum of approval the gesture elicited made Ward smirk, and he bent his head to claim her lips whilst she bucked her hips to meet his, whimpering into his mouth. 

“Am I not being clear, here?” he teased, bumping the tip of his nose against hers. Skye pressed her palm to his cheek and brushed her thumb over the stubble on his jaw, taking a moment merely to return his gaze. His eyes were bright, and there was a peace and contentment settled upon his features that Skye had rarely seen there before. 

Lifting her head from the pillow, she craned her neck to kiss him tenderly. The adoring smile she received in response was tinged with just enough lustful inference to set Skye’s heart racing again. 

“I thought my motives were pretty evident...” Ward murmured, his hand beginning a languid exploration of her body. He groaned as his fingers made contact with the most sensitive spot between her thighs, and then he began rubbing slow, tortuous circles that set her knees trembling. 

“Then maybe you should explain them to me again,” Skye hissed, running her hands eagerly over the hard plains and contours of his body. Poised above her, grin teasing, Ward gently pinched the sensitive nub. 

Skye gasped at the sensation, digging her fingernails into his back as first one, then two fingers slipped inside her. He worked her at a teasing pace at first, succeeding only in dragging his name from her lips in a growl. 

Casting an irritated glance at the clock on the night stand, Skye found herself suddenly regretting making plans that would involve leaving their room, or indeed their bed. 

“We’ve got an hour,” she panted in between kisses, her head rolling to the side to oblige as he dragged his lips down her neck, her hips moving against the building rhythm of his fingers. 

A predatory smile settled on his lips, and he ran his eyes over her naked body before leaning down as though to kiss her; instead, he paused at the last second, his mouth so close to hers that his warm breath ghosted across her lips. 

“I can work with that.”

x-x-x

After taking a sip of her cappuccino, Jemma Simmons dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin and then regarded her friend with a smile that was as eager as it was bright. 

“So... how’s it all going? Must be very exciting, this top secret business,” she enthused, adding with a chuckle, “obviously you can’t tell me about it... because it’s top secret.”

Skye laughed and nodded, raising her own mug to her lips as she attempted to conceal a yawn behind it. She and Ward had tumbled into bed in the early hours of Sunday morning after working an intelligence gathering mission at a Parisian nightclub that had taken longer than expected. They had intended to catch up on some much needed sleep during the remainder of their Sunday, but Jemma’s impromptu phone call to explain that the team were in the area had soon put paid to those plans - along with Ward’s insatiable sexual appetite. Try as she might, Skye was finding it near impossible to drag her thoughts from the hotel suite she had left an hour or so before. She had only to allow her composure to slip for a second and her mind was dominated by the image of Ward lying in their hotel bed, hair mussed and bottom lip swollen from where she had sucked it into her mouth during a heated kiss. Skye managed to successfully thwart the lascivious smile threatening to betray her and instead took a noisy sip from her coffee. 

“What’s he like?” Jemma demanded, hunkering down in her seat and propping her elbows on the table as she peered over the rim of her mug. 

“Who?” Skye inquired with a frown, replacing her mug onto the table and pilfering a strawberry from the bowl set on the table between them. She bit into it decisively, her tongue tingling as the sweet flesh and juices filled her mouth. 

“Hellfire.”

Skye coughed as the food she had been about to swallow lodged in her throat. Her eyes watered and she doubled over, but raised her hand in time to shoo away Jemma’s concern. 

“Water?” Jemma offered helpfully, filling a surplus glass and scooting it across the table to Skye, who just about managed to shake her head. 

“I’m good,” she managed, wiping the tears from her eyes quickly. She affixed Jemma with a smile that she hoped was genuine enough to at least carry her through to the moment when her heart ceased pounding. 

Whilst Coulson had full disclosure as to who her latest working partner was, they had agreed that it would perhaps be best for the time being to keep both Ward’s new abilities and his re-affiliation to S.H.I.E.L.D. a secret. Although physically speaking Fitz had made great strides in his recovery from the rather unfortunate pod incident, he was still a long way from a full emotional recovery, and Skye valued his friendship too much to risk rocking the boat by trying to bring Grant Ward back into the fold so soon after his betrayal. 

“So, come on, I’ve been just dying to get all the juicy details,” enthused Jemma, dropping her voice to a whisper as she pressed, “is he handsome? How’s his bottom?”

“His what now?” Skye demanded, one eyebrow arched and her lip curled as she attempted to decipher whatever the scientist had just asked of her.

“You know!” Jemma protested, cheeks colouring, “his, well... arse.”

Skye stared at her dumbfounded, debating whether changing the subject or playing along would be more suspicious. In the end, she decided on the latter. 

“Uh... yeah, he’s...” Skye felt a blush rise up her cheeks as she thought about the man she had left in her bed. “He’s annoyingly handsome, I guess you could say.”

Jemma squealed with delight, clasping her hands together as she leaned closer to her friend. 

“So, have you two... you know? Is there any hint of romance?” she pressed, “because I think it’s high time you got back on the horse... so to speak.” 

Seeming to be on a roll now, Jemma showed no signs of halting her tangent, “That awful Ward business is all over and done with, and that whole Lincoln thing was a bit of a fiasco...”

Skye held up her hand, half in a bid to silence her friend and also to protest her innocence on one particular matter, “Oh, whoah... Hey! Nothing happened between me and Lincoln.”

She busied herself with selecting another strawberry, her eyes locked on the rim of the bowl as she awaited Jemma’s next words with a degree of dread.

“Well...” Jemma said with a sweet smile as she laid her hand over Skye’s, “you look happy and that’s really all that matters. I know it’s been awfully difficult for you, and I’m glad you seem more like your old self again.”

She smiled buoyantly at the former hacker before taking a long sip of her drink and once again dabbing at the excess froth on her lips with a bunched up napkin. 

“I do?” asked Skye, somewhat pleased to hear that traces of the head-strong girl in the van perhaps still existed. 

“Absolutely,” Jemma confirmed, narrowing her eyes as she glanced discretely around the tables to ascertain if anyone could overhear them, “so, about this ‘Hellfire’, then. I like that codename, it’s... mysterious and... a tiny bit sexy.”

Skye exhaled a groan as she realised that she was going to have to put Simmons out of her misery, knowing that there were certain subjects that the scientist would only be repulsed by once the truth had come out. Jemma most definitely would not be amused by having been duped into discussing the finer points of Grant Ward’s backside - of which there were many, Skye had to admit. 

“Jem...” Skye interrupted, biting down on her bottom lip as she stared into the depths of the mug she grasped tightly in her hands. The coffee had grown cold, and there was no soothing warmth to be derived from the porcelain she gripped. “I have to tell you something...”

Jemma’s expression darkened with concern as she recognised the hesitance tainting her friend’s features. 

“Oh Skye, what’s the matter? Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as all that,” she said brightly, hoping to allay her concerns. 

Skye momentarily closed her eyes and drew in a steadying breath, deciding to take a ‘rip the band aid off’ approach in the face of Jemma’s persistent, unrelenting optimism. 

“It’s Ward.”

Jemma grimaced and drew away slightly, although her hands remained splayed across the middle of the table. She shook her head, seeming to force her mouth into the most empathetic smile she could muster.

“I understand completely why that whole business would affect any future relationship prospects,” Jemma replied, measuring her words carefully. 

“No, it’s Ward,” Skye repeated, this time emphasising the name pointedly, hoping that the added inference would be enough for Jemma to catch on. 

“Yes, I did hear you the first time, and as I was saying it’s very normal to allow that experience to colour your view of romance in a... negative light...” Jemma continued, drawing her hands into her body and clasping them in front of her. “Have you considered talking to someone? Perhaps Andrew or....”

“No, Jemma, look...” Skye interjected, rubbing her forehead with one palm as she felt a headache brewing, “it’s Ward. Hellfire is Ward.”

“Come again?” the colour began to drain from the scientist’s face, and she swallowed hard. Skye noted how her fingers suddenly arched, latching onto the edge of the tabletop with alarming ferocity. 

“Long story short, Ward has powers now. I recruited him, Coulson knows all about it.. He’s... He’s Hellfire,” Skye explained, wincing as she watched Jemma digest the newest piece of information. 

Lips clamped shut, Jemma began to take short, sharp breaths, as if the prospect of hyperventilating seemed a very real possibility. 

Speaking in a curt, measured tone, Jemma demanded, “Are you sleeping with him?”

Skye blinked in surprise, ignoring the ill-timed, insistent hum of her cell phone as it vibrated in her pocket. 

“Wow, uh... That’s kind of none of your business, Jemma.”

“So that’s a yes,” Jemma’s breathing showed no signs of slowing and Skye watched her friend with growing alarm, noting the vein in her forehead that had begun to bulge. 

“Right. Lovely.”

Skye swallowed hard, feeling a tell tale burn in the back of her throat and a stinging in her eyes that hinted her guilt was perhaps about to pour forth in the form of hot, embarrassing tears. Grabbing her handbag, Jemma slid out of the booth, refusing to meet Skye’s gaze any longer. 

“Jem, please don’t go,” Skye pleaded, tone softening and gaze imploring. She stumbled out of the booth with some difficulty, just in time to seize one of Jemma’s hands and attempt to tug the scientist back into her seat. 

“Get your hands off me,” Jemma seethed, slow, measured and yet far from in control. Her eyes whipped to Skye’s face, carefully analysing the expression she found scrawled there. Skye took a respectful step backward, suddenly feeling every last ounce of the intense weight of Simmons’ glare; the fury and betrayal in her eyes she had been fully prepared for, but what she would never have expected was the faintest spark of jealousy that flashed in Jemma’s hazel orbs. 

“I expect you think I’ll ask you how you could bare for him to touch you after everything he did - all those innocent people he murdered in cold blood,” stated Jemma, holding her handbag in front of her like a shield, “but to be honest, I don’t really care to hear your excuses.”

“I...” Skye began, getting no further than the faint utterance before Jemma held up one hand to command silence.

“Before I go, I just want you to know that I will never forgive you for this,” Jemma said, her tone now completely cool, somehow making her words feel that much more devastating, “because you know what he took away from Fitz and I; everything that we could have had but never did because Ward was too weak and too selfish to see what he had allowed himself to become. Fitz and I will never get that back again, but I suppose that’s perfectly okay as long as you and he have... whatever this is. You are just as weak and selfish and duplicitous and... pathetic... as he is. I hope you make each other very happy.”

Jemma shot one final icy glare at her friend before she stormed out of the restaurant, accidentally sending a nearby chair skittering across the floor as she nudged it with her bag. In a very un-Simmons-like move, she neither stopped to pick it up nor offered the waiter that scrambled to retrieve it an apology. Her eyes remained focussed on the door right up until the point she pushed through it, striding out into the midday sunshine with her head held high and her arms swinging at her sides. 

Skye folded her arms across her chest as she watched Jemma disappear into the crowd of shoppers. She felt awful at having hurt one of her closest friends, but the thing that shocked her most was that she didn’t care enough to make excuses or plead for forgiveness. Finally, removing her still buzzing phone from her pocket, she felt a genuine smile brighten her features as she saw Ward’s name flash across the screen. 

“I am so screwed,” she mumbled, shaking her head in amusement even as she slid her thumb across the screen to connect the call.

x-x-x

 

Precisely ten seconds into his phone call, Ward had detected the tinge of sadness to Skye’s tone and adjusted his plan for the afternoon accordingly, which was the reason they had ended up at a small, local petting zoo with him forking over a wad of Euros for overpriced crepes with ice cream. 

Arm in arm, the couple strode through the miniature paddocks, every now and then pausing so that Skye could coo at a goat or lamb. Since the weather was favourable, throngs of parents with children of varying ages milled around them, helping them to maintain a good cover with no real effort needing to be spent at getting lost in the crowd.

They had only briefly discussed the incident with Simmons at the cafe, but Ward could tell that it was playing on Skye’s mind, even as she munched her way through two chocolate crepes and made a forced effort to point out every cute, fluffy critter they passed. 

“Maybe we should get a pet,” Skye stated, although Ward could tell from the forced cheerfulness in her tone that she was merely trying to make conversation. He flashed her an indulgent smile and decided to play along for the time being, allowing her however long she might need to mull over the argument with Jemma.

“I can’t see Coulson going for that and who’d take care of it when we were away?” he inquired, ever the pragmatist even when speaking figuratively. 

“Stop being so reasonable,” Skye said with a smile, despite her obvious misery, and she linked her arm through Ward’s in order to tug him closer. 

They stopped in the centre of a miniature footbridge and Ward placed his free hand on the wooden railing; the slump of his shoulders and his furrowed brow belayed his obvious concerns over something, but he only drew Skye into his chest and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. The couple stood in mutual silence for a few minutes, breathing in the cool, Parisian air, and for Skye’s part - enjoying the facade of being a regular couple; no SHIELD, no super powers - just them.

Skye intercepted Grant’s troubled gaze and she pressed her cheek against his shoulder, hoping to interrupt the dark path his thoughts traversed. 

“Honing your brooding skills?”

Ward smiled faintly, keeping his eyes trained on the water flowing underneath the bridge as he spoke, “I know how much Jemma means to you. The whole team, they’re like family to you, Skye. I don’t want to be the reason you lose that. Not again.”

Skye frowned, purposefully tightening her grasp on his arm as she tugged on it to force him to look at her. 

“So, what ? You breaking up with me?” she inquired, her smile and subsequent eyeroll conveying that she was hardly taking the possibility seriously. However, when Ward only continued to watch the man-made stream with a fixed expression, Skye quickly sobered, “Wait... Ward, what the hell?”

He blinked at the suddenly infuriated tone and glanced down at her askance.

“What? No. Of course not,” he soothed, gripping her shoulders gently, “I... just don’t want you to regret this.”

“I don’t and I won’t,” Skye affirmed, holding Ward’s gaze with wide eyes, “we’re not having this conversation, Grant.”

Ward nodded, murmuring quiet assent as Skye reached up and stroked the back of her hand across his cheek. 

Finally, Skye flashed a genuine smile, her eyes twinkling as she suddenly inquired in a breathy rush, “What if we get a dog? We could train it for missions, kit it out with its own tactical gear...”

Ward laughed, shaking his head at Skye’s enthusiasm and the faintly manic glint in her eye that alerted him to the fact that she was actually serious this time. 

“I think I’d prefer for the next member of our team to have two legs, not four,” Ward replied, leaning down and brushing his lips against Skye’s temple, beaming as he breathed in the scent of hotel shampoo clinging to her hair. 

“You know, that’s not always a guarantee with Inhumans,” Skye quipped, her own grin mischievous. 

Ward winced at the idea, then wrapped his arms around Skye as she stood in front of him and he rested his chin lightly on the top of her head, “Guess I got off pretty lightly in that case.”

Skye glanced back up at him and nodded in agreement, suddenly forgetting her earlier altercation with Simmons as she pressed herself against his chest and surveyed the crowds around them. Parents were towed from paddock to paddock by excitable children and happy couples strolled hand in hand through the park, creating a scene that perfectly reflected the sense of normality that Skye had always craved. She smiled as she watched a young family walk past, their little girl hoisted up on to her father’s shoulders as she pointed towards the farmyard enclosure with excitement reflected upon her wind-reddened face. 

“This is nice,” Skye announced, contented beyond measure as she felt Ward’s cheek press against hers, and he brushed a kiss against the corner of her lips, “it’s like we’re just regular people. No S.H.I.E.L.D., no crazy powers, no evil organisations bent on world domination... just us.”

Ward nodded but his smile by no means reached the corners of his eyes, which seemed to be darting around the area in a tell tale manner. Although Skye picked up on all the subtle nuances that Ward had become agitated, she schooled her facial expression to give away nothing. Instead, she stood on tiptoes, fixed her hands on Ward’s shoulders, and made a show of nonchalantly leaning up to press a kiss against his cheek. As she had anticipated, when her earlobe neared his lips, Ward spoke quietly and urgently. 

“Except it’s not just us. We have a tail at seven o’clock,” Ward stated, and as Skye drew back he flashed her a grin that the casual observer would not doubt was genuine. 

“How long have they been following us?” Skye inquired, turning up the wattage of her own smile and allowing Ward to slide his arm around her waist. He drew her closer into his body and, despite the situation, Skye felt an odd sense of satisfaction well inside her. Certainly danger was very real and imminent, but Grant had pledged to stand with her through anything; a testament that few people had made before throughout her short life. 

“Maybe fifteen minutes. I wanted to be sure,” he explained, resting one hand significantly on the railing of the bridge and tapping the wood with his index finger. Skye’s eyes followed the path of his hand and then she nodded her understanding; Ward had chosen a stationary spot for their heart-to-heart to allow him to keep tabs on the movements of their tail. 

It was true enough that the incident with Jemma had made Grant uneasy, and he had indeed found himself wondering if an ultimatum might be set now that Skye was in an uncomfortable position between her adopted family and himself.Throughout his childhood and adolescence, people had rarely shown Ward kindness or real affection - even those whose job should have been to love him unconditionally. As a consequence, he found it difficult to believe that anybody could view him as worthy of love, or that somebody like Skye would choose him to entrust with her heart. As it was, Grant felt as if he was treading water, just waiting for her to come to her senses. Yet sometimes, she looked up at him with such unchecked adoration that he could dare to believe that every kiss and whispered affirmation was laced with truth. 

“They can’t want a stand-off, surely. This place is way too crowded to try to take us out,” Skye speculated, reaching into her pocket for her cell phone as she flashed him a feigned smile. 

“Time to rock a selfie!” she declared, holding up the phone and turning their bodies until the two men and one woman became encompassed in the frame.

“Smile!” Skye directed, giggling accordingly as Grant pressed his lips to her cheek and she snapped two pictures in quick succession. 

“Beautiful,” Ward softly commented, the awe in his voice distinct and truthful as he peered down at the photograph of him and Skye. 

“I’m certain Coulson will think so too,” Skye replied as she hastily tapped out a caption to accompany her picture, then hit the ‘send’ button on her screen. “With any luck, he’ll be able to send us a ride.”

“Eyes on a possible second team, Skye,” Ward stated, his tone beginning to sound infused with concern, although his features were still fixed in an expression of oblivious bliss. 

“Make that a third,” Skye amended, suddenly spotting a tall man dressed in a business suit who carried a briefcase and had spent the last several minutes edging casually closer to the couple. Skye grumbled under her breath, “They must think we’re stupid. Who the hell wears a suit to a petting zoo... on a Sunday?”

“Skye,” Ward said, glancing down at her quickly and apparently now unable to mask his worry as his brow furrowed into a grimace, “the couple over by the tree with the baby carriage.”

Skye slipped her hand into Ward’s back pocket, slowly aligning her body at the appropriate angle to shoot a glance at the couple in question. Sure enough, she spotted a man and woman perhaps several years older than Ward, seated on the ground by the duck pond, their backs turned away from a blue baby carriage parked dangerously close to the edge, the brakes clearly not employed. The woman kept a steady grip on her phone, resting it upright on her knee, and the sunlight glinted occasionally off the lens of the camera. 

“You think we’re being filmed?” Skye inquired, suddenly tugging Ward along again as a shudder coursed involuntarily down her shoulder blades. 

“That or they’re pretty negligent parents,” Ward replied, squeezing Skye’s hand in a bid to reassure her. 

“That’s four,” said Skye, fighting the frown that threatened to overwhelm her calm facade, “Hail Hydra?”

Ward merely shook his head as he squinted against the sunlight and casually scouted a less crowded path that perhaps headed towards the parking lot, where they could hot-wire a car if necessity called for it. 

“Not really their style,” he said, sliding his arm around Skye’s waist and falling into step in a slow amble he hoped would not give them away to their apparent spectators. “Whoever they are, they’re here for a floor show.”

“They want us to use our powers in public?” Skye hissed, laying her head on his shoulder and pretending to act like any of the other lovestruck couples wandering around the park.

Ward smiled, making a pantomime of pressing a kiss to her cheek as he whispered, “I guess they want to check out the merchandise before they buy...”

“What?” Skye tried not to sound panicked, noting how Ward’s eye was trained on one particular man, who busied himself with reaching over and smoothing the muzzle of a pony in the enclosure beside him. 

“They’re Russian,” Ward stated without missing a beat, “that’s Dimitri Ivanovna. Last time he showed up on the S.H.I.E.L.D. radar he was part of the ‘Red Room’ project, recruiting schoolgirls out of the Eastern block countries. Interpol have been tracking the guy for years. Human trafficking, drug running, selling weapons to Iran. Even the KGB washed their hands of him.”

Skye felt her phone buzz in her hand, and she glanced at the screen with considerable relief as Coulson’s message flashed across it; indicating that a quinjet would meet them imminently. 

“Extraction team are in the air,” she whispered, finding it increasingly more difficult to feign a carefree smile as panic began to overcome her. 

“Hey,” Ward’s hand landed gently against her cheek, and he brushed his thumb across her skin to prompt her to meet his determined gaze, “it’s gonna be okay. We can handle this. Right, boss?” 

From the corner of her eye, Skye found that the gaze of one of the female agents had landed on them with unflinching intensity. Through a smile that was beginning to make her jaw ache, Skye eventually spoke. 

“Kiss me,”she demanded, “they’re watching... and make it good.”

Ward arched an eyebrow at her, inferring that he always dedicated significant effort to any and all acts of intimacy; this time, Skye’s smile was genuine, and it was Grant’s turn to roll his eyes as he detected the spark of mischief in her expression. 

“There are children present, Quake,” Ward murmured, a smirk overtaking his features as he craned his neck and then pressed his lips against Skye’s. He slid his tongue into her mouth and found his hand moving to grip the back of her head of its own volition. Their bodies gravitated naturally together and Skye rested her hand on Ward’s chest, losing herself in the kiss and the moment, despite the situation they had found themselves wandering into. The kiss only increased in fervour as the seconds ticked by, and Skye’s hand slid down his chest to rest on his belt buckle. She tugged on it significantly, finally drawing away from the clinch to affix him with a look that was so full of promise, it took Ward’s breath away.

“We’re going to get out of this,” Skye stated, her tone injected with renewed confidence, “and when we do, later, you’re all mine, Hellfire.”

“Yes, ma’am,” breathed Ward, his cheeks flushing a little as he digested Skye’s words and the sly smile that accompanied them.

“Parking lot?” Skye suggested, grasping Grant’s hand again, “the windows in the bathrooms open out directly onto it. May draw less attention than just making a break for it. I’m a little concerned about the number of civilians that would be in the way if we try to run.”

Ward scanned the park around them and sighed heavily as he saw just how cornered they now where. They could of course use their powers to escape, but the nature of both of their abilities meant that innocent bystanders would undoubtedly be hurt in the fray. His arm coiled around her waist and he drew her close. They wandered through the crowd at a leisurely pace, even stopping to read the menu on an ice-cream vendor's truck before finally coming to a halt outside the restrooms. The women's bathrooms were through one door, with the men's located through the opposite door, both with stall windows that backed onto the parking lot and coach bays. 

"Quick as you can," Ward directed, receiving nothing but a curt nod from Skye who appeared to have slipped into mission-mode, just as May had doubtlessly taught her. 

Shooting her one final, pointed glance, Ward jammed his hands in his pockets and winked at her, admittedly enjoying the familiar surge of adrenalin that had begun to course through his veins.

“See you on the other side,” quipped Skye, disappearing into the women’s bathroom without a single backward glance. 

Ward pushed open the door to the men’s room and strode inside, groaning in frustration as he realised that the stall positioned directly beneath the window was occupied, the door closed and locked. Skye would emerge in the parking lot and be forced to wait for him, which would undoubtedly lead to her discovery once he failed to show up as promptly as she would expect. 

Making a quick decision, Ward stepped forward and rapped on the cubicle door with his knuckles.

“Hey buddy, you almost done?” he demanded in a voice that he hoped left little room for argument.

“There is another stall, Monsieur,” came the curt and clipped reply, which had Ward gritting his teeth. 

“Yeah, it’s out of order and...” Ward began, frowning as the heavily accented voice from the other side of the door interjected. 

“Then you will wait.”

Jaw clenched, Ward paced the floor of the bathroom, mulling over his options. However his concern for Skye quickly trumped anything else, and he closed the main door of the restroom with a hurried slam before sliding the metal trash can along the floor to block the entrance. Resisting the urge to utilise his handgun, Ward huffed in irritation. 

"Don't shoot him in the head... don't shoot him in the head," he repeated in an exasperated mantra. 

Taking a step back, the former Specialist directed one hard kick to the door, which splintered open almost immediately and narrowly avoiding hitting the occupant in the face. Ignoring the man's panic stricken cries, Ward reached out and grabbed him around the collar, hauling him off the toilet, his pants still pooled around his ankles. He landed in a crumpled heap underneath the sinks, scrambling to pull up his pants as he watched his attacker step up onto the rim of the toilet and remove what looked worryingly like a handgun from his pocket. The man shielded his eyes with his hands, braced for the attack to continue. Yet when he opened his eyes barely a couple of minutes later, he was alone in the bathroom - the window above the toilet flapping open and closed against the hinge.

By the time Ward dropped down from the window ledge onto the asphalt of the parking lot, he could hear the already ensuing fight - grunts and short cries of pain, accompanied by the slapping sound of bare skin against skin. He barely had time to clamber to his feet before an obviously very highly trained someone delivered a roundhouse kick to his hand, sending the gun flying from his grip and skittering across the ground. It slid underneath a parked car and Ward was forced to tear his gaze away from his lost weapon in order to protect his head from the series of punches suddenly rained down upon it. 

With an enraged snarl, Ward dropped down into a crouching position and swept his leg in a half arc, which succeeded in sending his opponent tumbling to the ground. Two more men were on him in the next instant, and he barely had time to shoot a glance over to Skye, who was holding her own against a male and female assailant; Ward recognised them immediately as the couple he had spotted with the baby carriage. From the look of sheer determination of Skye’s face, Ward could tell that she was doing her best to avoid losing control of her powers. Whilst an earthquake might prove useful against their would-be kidnappers, they were still close enough to the petting zoo that any tremors would likely result in civilian casualties. That would be the last thing Skye would want weighing on her conscience, although Ward was arguably bound by no such constraints; after all, his powers, whilst still destructive, were not capable of as much widespread devastation as Skye’s had proven to be. 

“Come with us and we’ll go easy on you,” one of the men declared even as he attempted to land a punch to Ward’s jaw. 

“Not gonna happen, but I like your optimism,” Ward rewarded him with a smug grin before experimentally opening and closing his mouth against the ache radiating through his face from in his jaw. Blocking an onslaught of punches launched in his direction, Ward slid the tip of a blade from his sleeve, and landed a vicious uppercut to the Russian’s chin that left a long, thing wound running up from his throat. The man doubled over, his eyes widening at both the pain and the blood that suddenly spurted from his body. 

Seizing the advantage, Ward proceeded to deliver a further series of punches and heavy body blows to the man, succeeding in sending him sprawling into the side of a nearby car.

A knife was soon produced from his pocket as a second assailant attempted to grab him from behind. Ward flipped the smaller man over his shoulder, somewhat surprised when he climbed quickly to his feet. 

“You two are quite the specimens,” the man laughed, his Russian accent thick as he taunted the Inhuman, “our boss will be very pleased.”

“Who do you work for?” Ward demanded, his lips forming a tight frown as the man shrugged, nonplussed by the wholly aggressive demeanour of his opponent.

“It doesn’t matter. You will find out soon enough,” he replied, casting a brief glance at Skye, who had just dispatched a second female agent with relative ease. 

“Your pretty little girlfriend is quite the prize. We know all about her...” he chuckled and the action exposed two gold teeth. Ward resisted the urge to laugh, appalled not just by the man’s threat, but by the ridiculously caricature nature of his adversary.

“She’d snap you in half before you even laid a finger on her,” Ward retorted, his arrogant and self assured grin returning as he stared down the shorter man. 

The Russian only chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that emanated from his chest and caused his whole body to judder, as though it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. 

“You’d like to think, wouldn’t you?” he purred, his tone becoming condescending as he smirked back at Ward, who fought back the wave of blind fury that threatened to overcome his reason. The man’s fingers twitched at his side and he half closed his eyes as his grin widened. 

In a low, delighted tone, he whispered, “Power inhibitors are a wonderful invention. Oh the things our boys will do to her. She’s really quite magnificent. I’m sure they’ll find her delightful and... What’s the word? Ah, yes... Entertaining.”

If the man had been paying close enough attention to the stranger before him, he may have noted the enraged and homicidal flash of darkness in his eyes. As it was, he did not. 

Taking the Russian wholly by surprise, Ward released a snarl and flung out his hand toward the man, unfurling a crackling, leaping chain of flames that wound out towards the enemy and snagged him tightly around the neck. The fire hissed against his skin, burning a deep welt into his flesh, which smouldered and bubbled at the prolonged exposure. Ward dragged his hand back, tightening the blazing chain, and the man’s eyes bulged as he choked and kicked out at thin air. 

Another agent ran towards them, hoping to assist his friend, but he was stopped in his tracks as Ward held up his left hand and an orb of fire swirled from the centre of his palm. It landed squarely in the chest of the second assailant, who screamed as his entire body was consumed by the flames. 

The first man dropped to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head as he took one final shuddering gasp for air and then crumpled. The chain unwound from his skin, leaving behind a deep burn that circled his entire throat. Ward watched the steam rise up from his skin through narrowed eyes and, whilst the smell of burnt flesh made his stomach roll, there was an overriding sense of satisfaction given his threats against Skye. 

“Ward!” Skye cried, her voice sounding choked and unnatural as she called out the warning. Grant spun around just in time to see Skye being held against the body of another agent, the man’s arm pressing against her throat and evidently cutting off her oxygen supply. Her brown eyes were wide and wild, yet the concern they held was not for herself. Ward realised as much just in time to feel the bullet rip through his left shoulder, and the blazing chain disappeared from his fingers in an instant as though it had never existed in the first place. 

Ward’s eyes widened in surprise and he let out a hiss of pain, clamping his hand immediately to the wound as blood began to spurt from it. A wave of nausea overcame him immediately and Ward was ill prepared when another female agent flung herself at him, kicking his legs out from under him in one swift movement. He hit the tarmac hard but the pain that ricocheted through his knees was infinitesimal in comparison to the agony that consumed his shoulder. 

“No!” Skye roared, her eyes blazing with renewed anger as she threw back her head hard, striking her assailant in the nose. She flung her elbow backwards for good measure, succeeding in striking the already spluttering man in the throat, which invariably sent him to the ground in a heap. Blood gushed from his evidently broken nose but Skye was too furious and afraid for Ward’s safety to feel much akin to satisfaction in that moment. 

Too late, the remaining five agents realised that the threat had shifted from Ward to Skye, but before they could attempt to rush her en masse, she flung out one palm in front of her and devastation was wrought. The blast of energy sent the men careering backwards, along with several cars that were parked in the vicinity. Their screams and cries of pain mingled with the sounds of screeching metal and blaring car alarms, which were all certain to send reinforcements running imminently. Skye peered across the now ruined parking lot at the five bodies sprawled unconscious across the upturned cars and, only when she was satisfied that they had been dispatched, did she run full pelt towards Grant. 

Pressing her hand to his shoulder, where a steady stream of blood had begun to pool beneath him, Skye winced as he groaned at the contact. 

“Grant!” she called out, trying to sound commanding despite the trickle of tears now ebbing down her cheeks.  
“Ward, stay with me...” she pleaded, watching as his eyes flickered open and closed as he fought against the unconsciousness threatening to claim him.

Feeling an unsettling, sticky warmth against her hand, Skye lifted her palm and was horrified to find his blood not only painting her palm and fingers, but flowing into a pool that had now half drenched his shirt. 

“Grant...” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his and holding her palm hard against the wound, “please, Grant...”

She could offer him no false promises that it would be okay, and her own heart had slowed to a thud as panic and despair gave way to hopelessness. 

The trees and debris suddenly began to move furiously against an unseen force and, from the air above, the sound of engines caused Skye’s head to whip up to greet the blissfully familiar sound. The Bus II began a rapid descent into the parking lot, flattening a line of trees and abandoned outbuildings in the process. 

The cargo bay opened within moments of the plane landing, and a figure stepped forward that Skye instantly recognised as Coulson. He gestured from behind him and a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents jogged down the ramp toward the two waiting inhumans, bearing a gurney between them. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Skye whispered, a smile breaking through her tears as she watched the black clad figures swarm towards them. “You just stay with me... that’s an order.”

With a half smile quirking his lips as he digested her words, Ward attempted to raise his hand to caress Skye’s cheek before the intense burning pain in his shoulder gave way to an all consuming darkness, and his hand fell limply to his side. 

x-x-x

“How did they even know where we were?” Skye growled, wincing as Jemma dabbed at the cut on her cheek, attempting to clean out the tiny specks of gravel that littered it. “Nobody is supposed to know where we are aside from you, Coulson. How in the hell did they get that intel.?”

Coulson’s eyes betrayed his disgust, and his lips curled as he stated tiredly, “We had a traitor in our midst... Again. Looks like one of our new lab assistants has her loyalties in the Kremlin.”

Skye stared back at him in confusion, noting with a certain degree of sadness how Jemma avoided her gaze, yet her anger at their attack and Ward’s injury was taking precedent in that moment. 

“Is she here? On the Bus?” Skye demanded, brushing Jemma off gently and pushing herself down from the bed in the med. bay.

“Stand down, Skye,” Coulson warned her, not unkindly, “I had Bobbi and Hunter escort her to the Playground. She’ll be questioned further and taken into custody. But it looks like we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands...”

Skye nodded sullenly, “They’re coming after Inhumans.”

Coulson folded his arms across his chest and nodded slowly, “And from what we know, it concerns their old ‘Red Room’ project.”

Shaking her head, Skye glanced between her friends, confused at just how the information about their top secret Caterpillars unit had seemingly fallen into enemy hands. Only Coulson and his team knew of its existence, and Skye trusted each and every one of them with her life. None of them would have betrayed her. Willingly. 

“I don’t understand how they knew about us,” Skye repeated, her brow furrowed as she licked at her burning top lip and tasted blood on her tongue, alerting her to the fact she had most probably split her lip. 

“You should really let me finish cleaning you up,” Jemma mumbled, busily gathering pieces of clean gauze and attempting to minister to Skye once again. Frowning, Skye stilled Jemma’s hand easily with a gentle grip.

“What aren’t you telling me?” demanded Skye, her gaze ticking to Coulson, who let out a weary sigh and rubbed his forehead. 

“Jemma?” he queried, glancing at the scientist. The woman immediately ducked her head, her teeth gnawing her bottom lip and her complexion growing pallid as silence descended around them.

“I was angry, Skye,” Jemma whispered, shaking her head and screwing her eyes closed, “I... I was hurt that you and him... I might have mentioned it to Fitz, in the lab. She was listening... But you have to believe I didn’t know. I would never risk your safety like that!”

Skye’s fingers clenched into fists as she held her arms straight against her body, staring in disbelief at her friend. 

“It wasn’t just my safety, Jemma. Ward got shot!”

Simmons bristled, feeling the unwelcome weight of Skye and Coulson’s stares land on her. Even as she spoke she knew her words were petulant and mean, yet she allowed them to slip from her lips anyway. 

“Yes, well I’m not concerned with his welfare,” she sniffed indignantly, glancing down at her feet as she imagined the rage contorting Skye’s features in that moment. 

Skye was unsettlingly quiet for a few moments, before she shook her head in disbelief and wholehearted disappointment. 

“That’s why you treated him without question. You felt guilty,” she accused, jabbing her finger into Jemma’s chest.

Jemma’s eyes flashed up angrily and her jaw set as she replied curtly, “I felt nothing of the sort. Why should I feel at all guilty about anything that happens to that monster? I didn’t pull the trigger.”

Coulson was about to intervene when he felt the ground suddenly begin to shake beneath his feet, and the shelves in the medical bay vibrated unsteadily. Simmons’ gaze darted around the room, and when she met Skye’s furious glare, she was certain she had never seen her friend look so utterly maddened. 

“Skye!” Coulson shouted, taking her murderous look as an indication that she was the source of their sudden attack of turbulence, “we’re thirty thousand feet in the air! Get it together, that’s an order!” 

Sucking in a series of calming breaths, Skye closed her eyes for a moment, trying to centre herself and rein in her emotions. The shaking came to an abrupt halt and Coulson nodded at her in approval. 

Turning on her heel, Skye snatched up her jacket from the foot of the bed and stalked toward the door, her stride purposeful. Regarding Simmons for only a moment before her disgust became too much to bare, Skye allowed the full weight of her gaze land on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Director. 

“You deal with her, I can’t even look at her right now. You know where I’ll be.”

Skye’s gaze drifted to Jemma only long enough to see the scientist’s mouth fall open in a combination of sheer disbelief and anger. The door to the medical bay was left swinging violently in Skye’s wake, but she moved through the stairwells and corridors on the Bus II without slowing her pace or managing to quash her own fury. 

By the time she reached the series of doorways leading to the new bunks, Skye’s own body was trembling as a consequence of her rage, and she was forced to remind herself of the damage she could cause herself by turning her powers inwards. Blowing out a breath through a clenched jaw, she attempted to wave away her anger with quite some degree of difficulty. The sooner she and Ward could escape the plane, the better, but they were still a few hours out from the safe house that Coulson had promised they could lie low in whilst Ward recuperated. 

Without bothering to knock, Skye slid open the door to the bunk where Ward lay, splayed out on the bed with an IV of fluids and antibiotics sticking out of his good arm, and his injured limb strapped up tightly to his chest. The pain that had earlier been reflected in his features had been smoothed out by the morphine coursing through his system, and instead of his usual glower he wore a tired half smile that conveyed exactly how much of an effect the drugs were having on him.

“Hey there,” Skye declared, grinning despite herself at the beaming smile that Ward shot her, even though his eyes were half closed.

“Skye...” he slurred, immediately reaching out his uninjured arm to her, his fingers clawing at the air as he attempted to beckon her closer. 

“Take it easy, super spy,” she chuckled in relief as she perched carefully on the edge of the bed and placed her hand in his. His fingers knit with hers as soon as their palms touched, and he sighed contentedly as she lifted their joined hands to her chest.

Though the bullet had passed through his shoulder and subsequent x-rays and scans showed that no serious damage had been done, Ward had required two units of blood and had been slow to regain consciousness. Skye had not left his side until she had been satisfied that he was out of the woods, despite Coulson’s insistence that she get her own wounds cleaned and dressed. It would be several weeks before Grant was fit to be back in the field, but Skye was already determined to assume the role of personal nurse, despite the resistance she knew she would invariably encounter.

Jemma’s words echoed in her mind and, combined with the panic she had felt at watching the bullet strike Ward, Skye felt the undeniable need to be as close as she possibly could. Laying their joined hands to rest in her lap, she leaned forward and extended her free hand, beginning to gently comb her fingers through the front of his hair. He smiled as her fingertips caressed his jaw and trailed down to his chest, and Skye let out a relieved breath as she felt the strong, determined pulse beneath her fingertips when they lingered for a moment at his neck. 

Ward’s eyes flickered open and he regarded her hazily, as if somehow surprised to see her there. The burning pain riddling his body and the drug-induced fog that he was fighting against were both strangely familiar, and reminded him of another time and place, when it had been the eyes of another that had met his when he had awoken. 

“You’re here...” he said hoarsely, blinking as he squeezed her hand and tried to ground himself against the haze of the morphine. 

“Well...” Skye said with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, as if the answer should have been obvious to him all along, “we’re a package deal, you and me.” 

She rolled her eyes playfully, her tone too relieved to be unkind, “And where else would I be, huh?! Idiot.”

Grant closed his eyes and let his head fall back heavily against the pillow, groaning as the motion jarred his shoulder. “Skye... It’s really you, right?”

“It’s really me,” Skye assured him, her voice a soft, soothing murmur. “You really gotta stop doing this, you know. You might think you’re bulletproof but...”

“Sorry I scared you,” Ward said quietly, his voice sounding addled by fatigue. He winced as he shifted in the bed, a barely audible moan escaping his lips. 

“You did. More than you know,” she replied as she watched Ward’s eyelids flutter. “Tired?”

“Mmmm,” Ward assented, rubbing at his already closed eyes with his free hand, “I guess.”

“Sleep,” she instructed, her tone soft but no nonsense, “I’ll be here and when you wake up, we’ll be somewhere we can lay low for a while.”

“Safe house?” Ward checked, already beginning to slide back into welcome unconscious. 

“Yeah, a safe house. One of Coulson’s safest,” Skye promised, brushing the back of her hand against Grant’s cheek and consenting to smile.

“Skye... S-sorry... ‘f Jemma’s... Mad... You... ‘cos ‘f me...” Ward mumbled, his breathing suddenly evening out abruptly, letting Skye know that he had finally succumbed to slumber again. 

Standing up from the bed, Skye placed his hand gently onto his abdomen and stood watching over him for a moment. The terror that had paralysed her when she had thought she might lose him had been all encompassing and something of an epiphany for the former hacker. Despite everything they had endured and everything he had subjected her to, the grudge she once believed she would hold forever - the one that had led to her furiously emptying four bullets into his side - had disappeared. And in its place was something she had never imagined could exist between them again; love. 

Keeping her voice low enough so as not to wake him, Skye stared down at Grant and shook her head as she contemplated the extent of her feelings. 

“You scared the shit out of me... Asshole.”

Mindful not to disturb the pole where the IV bags hung, Skye kicked off her boots and carefully - although not entirely gracefully - clambered over Ward’s sleeping form to lay in the empty space beside him. Though a vast improvement on the twin sized cots the bunks on the old Bus had been fitted with, the small double was still cramped for two people, particularly one of Ward’s stature - although Skye supposed that co-sleeping wasn’t something S.H.I.E.L.D. had been concerned with during the design process. 

Laying on her side, Skye curled up beside Ward, staring at him silently as she tried not to think about the repercussions of Jemma’s actions, or to relive the terrifying minutes she had spent with her hands coated in his blood. She draped her arm over his abdomen, making sure not to jar the sling as she nestled closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his arm. 

“Hey... wanna know a secret?” she whispered, inclining her head towards his. As if on cue, Ward turned in her direction, yet he remained fast asleep and blissfully unaware of her impending confession. 

Her lips brushed faintly against his, and Skye smiled at the unlikely realisation as her breath drifted across his skin moments before her palm fluttered up to his cheek.

“It was always you.”

 

 

 

 

　　  
　　  
　　


End file.
